


Unrequited

by Eclipsia (uncreativefanficwritername)



Series: Trollhunters Rarepair Week 2018 [2]
Category: Trollhunters (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Avalon - Freeform, Camelot, Dark Fantasy, Dark Magic, F/F, F/M, Gunbarb, Implied Forced Pregnancy, Lady of the Lake - Freeform, Mentions of Rape, Multi, No Smut, Nothing about this is happy, Sort Of, Trollhunters Rarepair week, arcadia is avalon here, avalon elements, but gunmar wants more, champion!angor rot, it's a marriage of convenience, king arthur mythology - Freeform, king gunmar, morgana just watching from her own throne, nimueh!barbara, queen barbara, rarepairweek - Freeform, this is gunbarb, this stuff is not the for faint of heart, trollhunters rarepair week 2018, with a bowl of popcorn, with hints of the other relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-08-05 13:21:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16368392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uncreativefanficwritername/pseuds/Eclipsia
Summary: This marriage is one of convenience.However that didn’t change the fact that he loved her, even if she did not feel the same.(Day 2: Unrequited Love. Gunbarb. Dark Fantasy AU. Warning: There is no sex, but there is the future implication of it due to expectations within this medieval-like society of kingdoms and magic and shit.)





	Unrequited

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Don't own Trollhunters or any of its characters. 
> 
> Hey! Second part is here and I hope you like it! I might continue this with different viewpoints of the other characters at some point when I'm not busy. Who knows. Gunbarb was fun to write because they don't like each other, but they're married for political reasons, lol. Also a future vision from Morgana, but you'll have to read to find out. 
> 
> This isn't an entry into the Trollhunters Rarepair Week contest itself, but I still wanted to write some dark stuff. 
> 
> Warning: this isn't Fallen Too Far heavy, but this isn't for kids either. Proceed with caution. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

 

 

This marriage is one of convenience.

 

However that didn’t change the fact that he loved her, even if she did not feel the same.

 

The Lady of the Lake was true to her namesake, flowing out of his reach whenever he came near. Her magic was immense, perhaps even greater than her sister-queen, but as long as she was under his power she could do nothing but sit at his side, a phoenix within a gilded cage.

 

At first, he had been ecstatic. The Lady was no mere sorceress. She was a master in her field, an unparalleled healer of old Avalon. But as time drew on, his dissatisfaction with their relationship grew.

 

Time is a strange concept to someone such as he. A decade, a century—all were in the blink of an eye to his race. She knew this fact too, for behind the flesh-clad shell she wore lay a magic even more ancient than he. 

 

He has given up on winning her love. She had given her heart to another before, a young changeling who had steadily climbed the ranks within her sister’s kingdom, hoping to win her hand. Even now, at every solstice celebration, he watched them. Taking both pain and pleasure from their frequent glances and clouded faces. It is a game, one could say. 

 

He lets her have her dalliances however, just as he has. As king of the Gumm-Gumms, he was expected to have a harem of trolls at his fingertips. Many a whelp had been sired by him after all. Besides, it was their kingdom’s customs. It would be wrong to deny her that privilege.

 

 Her relationship with her changeling handmaiden was one of them, a strong bond of loyalty and good humor, laced with an intense longing. Soft kisses, holding hands—they know better than to take it any farther under his watch, especially after this new one.

 

Angor Rot. 

 

Morgana’s champion had been a thorn in his side for centuries, challenging his authority whenever he strode into his kingdom. Such arrogance. Angor Rot had come from nothing, yet somehow he had made it into his wife’s good graces within a day, and into her bed but half a year later.  It made the betrayal all the more humiliating. Catching them together in the royal chambers had been an affront of the highest order.

 

But an opportunity was there. Despite his rage in the matter, it was the perfect time to put his newest plan into action.

 

Morgana had once spoken of an heir who would unite the kingdoms under one rule. As much as he wished it were one of his many sired Gumm-Gumms, he knew neither his greatest son Bular nor the rest of his brethren could ever hope to match him, though they tried as best as they could. He knew what Morgana was alluding. They all did. Lady Barbara was only delaying it. 

 

He approached her chambers after the fiftieth day of enforced solitude. Inside, a waterfall flowed from the ceiling, spreading out into the shallowly pool that encompassed nearly the entire room. Crystals floated lazily, shifting and sinking like waves on the ocean. They fluttered as he closed in on their mistress.

 

While it had taken decades to find her human form attractive, her magic was an entirely different story. It reminded him of the Heartstone he was birthed from, cool and rhythmic. Her eyes fluttered open as he stepped into the water. She floated to the surface, her white dress softly weaving in the pools.

 

He stops a few paces away. This is as close as she would allow him.

 

For now.

 

She sits up from the water, brushing back a strand of red hair. It is the only thing not wet. Whereas everything else in her outfit is fluid, her hair is static, pulled back into a tight lower bun, the length tucked behind her neck. It is the same as when he married her.

 

“You know why I am here, my lady,” he starts.

 

She shifts to her feet. “My sister’s champion is gone?”

 

“Not yet,” he replies, scanning her face for emotion. Anything. “His life is still in my hands.”

 

She flicked her fingers lazily, sending him a cold emotionless glance. “Morgana will kill you if you lay a hand on him.”

 

He lets out a short laugh. It shakes her. Good. “Your sister has left his fate up to me.”

 

Her eyes widen only slightly. Inwardly, he roars with triumph. To surprise the Lady of the Lake is an extraordinary feat. While no seer like her sister, she was a professional at hiding her emotions.

 

“What are you going to do then?” She asked in a measured tone.

 

“What would you like me to do?”

 

“You’re asking me, my lord?” She walked over to one of her decorative fountains. “After all this time, my opinion finally means something to you?”

 

“It always has, my lady.”

 

“Even when I asked you to spare the Conondrums? Or did you think I would forget when you slaughtered their race?”

 

Ah, she was still upset about that one. They were a smart race of trolls. If peculiar in their peaceful culture, with philosophers, artisans, scientists serving in the highest ranks of their kingdom. But they, like many others in trollkind, **refused to bend the knee.**

 

“There are some that yet live,” he says after moment’s pause. He didn’t kill them all off, he mused. Merely the ones who opposed him.

 

She twirls around the fountain, her dress dancing in the air. Even though there is no wind, it floats as if it is underwater. Few sorceresses could command such power so easily. “What are you truly here for, my lord?”

 

He walks over to her side, relishing the closeness she gave him. Finally, he responds, “A trade.”

 

She releases a mirthless laugh. She continues to evade him. Every time he takes a step to the left or right, she does the opposite. “Of what sort, my liege? What will you try to gamble away from me this time?”

 

“A life for a life.”

 

Her eyes narrow. She stops dancing around his approach. “Explain.”

 

He draws close, pulling her in with one hand to her waist. Her breath hitched. She glared, eyes as dark as the summer storm she was birthed from. Or so the tales say. 

 

“You want your love to live,” he states. It is not a question. Her lips twist together. She nods.

 

“I will allow him to live, if you give me what I want.”

 

“A life for a life,” she repeats, brows furrowing.

 

“Yes,” he says, gently pressing the palm of his hand to her stomach. “As I said before. A trade. An equivalent exchange, so to speak.”

 

Her mouth opened slightly as the meaning began to become clear. Immediately, she closed it. “I am barren. It would be useless of you to even try.”

 

“Not according to your sister.”

 

“My sister’s prophecies,” she spat out. “Of course, that’s what this comes all down to, isn’t it? You cannot win your own wars, so you decide to employ someone else to do it in your stead, is that it?”

 

He restrains the fury within himself. He has spent a millennia fighting Merlin’s forces. Even now, the Darklands and Arcadia were at odds. No matter how many times he attacked their borders, he was repelled, again and again, until it had become a running joke amongst the trolls.

 

But Gunmar never quit. If there was a way to win, he would take it, no matter what. 

 

“Avalon was once a great kingdom,” he states, relishing the soft flinch he receives. Her lands, her blood, all lost to time. Morgana’s lands were but a fraction of what they once were. “Now, it is a battlefield of different fractions. Surely you, a great healer, would want to see it restored to its former glory? Peace throughout the land. All races, united under one. Your homeland restored”

 

“Yes,” she says, “but not under you.”

 

“It won’t be me,” he contends. Well, not in name at least. “It will be both of us. You know this has been coming for a long time. I have been patient, but no longer.”

 

“Then kill him,” she says with a tight mocking smile. “You will never get a child out of me.”

 

“Are you so sure about that?” He leans closer, enjoying her soft sea scent and salty fear. He licked his lips. Delicious. “Lady Nomura and Baron Stricklander have been quite close to you as of late. It would be a shame if they disappeared.”

 

Her eyes glowed. He could feel the air grow thick with magic. “You wouldn’t dare.”

 

Was she threatening him? Her husband and lord? He could not keep the anger stewing within himself back any more.

 

“I dare, witch. I dare,” he growls. “I do not ask for your love, no matter how much I desire it. I know of your disgust, of your hatred—but know this.”

 

He bends down to her height. “My—our kingdom needs an heir. Both our people do. And you, and only you, can give it to me.”

  
She leans in closer to his face, as if challenging him. The crystals around them crackle and vibrate. Waves have begun to form in the pool. “Will you take me then?” She whispers with venom on her tongue. “Here and now?”

 

If he were a lesser troll he would have already had her long ago, in the forests where he first caught sight of her. Fighting his way out to the surface world, she was the first woman he saw after he had emerged from the Heartstone. How he had wanted to devour her, to possess her, to claim her for his own. Her magic was an addiction he could not quit. She was his Heartstone, in a manner of speaking. He could not hurt her the way she hurt him. 

 

He clenched his fists. He would make love to her sweetly, gently, if she asked. 

 

But he is a king.

 

He knows, even if she does not love him, she will at least love their child.

 

It is the best he can hope for.

 

“No,” he says, moving away. “I will give you a year." 

 

“A year?” She responds, disbelief in her brow. “That is not nearly enough time.”

 

In their long lifespans yes, but every day without her by his side is agony already. He could easily wait a year.

 

"I won't allow myself to be raped," she says

 

"I would never rape my queen. An additional rule then," he adds,"Within that time, I will strive to win my wife's approval."

 

"I'll never love you."

 

Inwardly, he flinches. The truth is painful, but to hear it from the source is even worse. Still, he continues on. 

 

"No, but you can tolerate me, yes?" He asks. 

 

She looks away.

 

It wasn't a no, he thought. He could at least work with that. 

 

“Three lives for one,” he restates. “A fair trade. Better than that.”

 

“Not to me.”

 

“But you’ll do it for them, won’t you?”

 

She grasped the sides of her dress, gaze focused on his own. “You’ll release my sister’s Champion and allow the other two to live?”

 

“I swear to release him,” he says before adding, “but if the other two try anything against me, I will not hesitate to take the life they have been given.”

 

“Then, I shall take your offer and consider it,” she says softly, turning away.

 

He releases her. He knows her answer is already made, but he will give her the space she desires.

 

For now.

 

It isn’t until he next day, when Morgana sends message by crow, that he realizes he’s truly won. He lets out a roar of laughter, scaring his advisors out of the room. He holds the piece of paper between his hands with a hungry look in his eyes.

 

The letter is short, as always. But it is in those short words he finds comfort in his and his kingdom’s future.

 

_James is a good name for a king._

 

Perhaps yes. Perhaps not.

 

But not to worry.

 

After all.

 

He has time.

 

 

 

 


End file.
